


and i'm so proud (of being loved by you).

by milominderbinder



Series: thirty days of skam fic [5]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gay Pride, Isak is Loved, Isak's Birthday, M/M, brief mentions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11096484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milominderbinder/pseuds/milominderbinder
Summary: Isak's eighteenth birthday is only three days before Oslo's pride parade.  To Eskild, Even, and the rest of his ridiculous friends, this apparently makes it the perfect opportunity to combine celebrations.





	and i'm so proud (of being loved by you).

**Author's Note:**

> my prompt for today was 'rainbow', so i looked up oslo pride 2017, and it starts on the 23rd, two days after Isak’s birthday! that was too cute for me to resist writing about. the main parade itself isn’t actually happening on that saturday irl, but for the purposes of this fic we’re pretending it is O:) 
> 
> isak's birthday also happens to be the last day of school, as i found out while writing this
> 
> this is my longest skam fic so far and also the one i've most enjoyed writing, so i really hope you guys enjoy it ♥️

Oslo’s pride parade falls three days after Isak’s eighteenth birthday.

The second he finds that out, Even is delighted.  Isak just rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm, but he has to admit he’d had a text from Eskild three days before pointing out the same thing --  _ little cupcake, I can’t believe you’re so wonderfully gay that the entire city is throwing a pride celebration on your birthday weekend! Let your guru take you to the parade, pretty please? I promise to leave my tights at home!  _

Even had only laughed when he read the text, but in hindsight, that was probably the moment he started  _ planning _ .

\-----

Isak’s actual eighteenth birthday goes great.  It’s a Wednesday, so they don’t have a massive party or anything, but Even brings him cake in bed in the morning and gives him a blowjob in the shower, and it also happens to be the last day of the term, so school goes by like a breeze and none of their teachers make them do anything.  In the evening, the guys come around to get high and eat pizza and have a Mario Kart tournament, and give him presents -- two cases of beer and a new snapback.  After they’ve gone, him and Even have slightly tipsy, giggly sex, and Isak falls asleep being cuddled to within an inch of his life.

His parents both text him, but he doesn’t meet up with either of them.  It’s probably the best birthday Isak’s ever had.

But then he wastes the whole of Thursday and Friday in that first-days-of-summer sort of haze, and before he knows it, Saturday has rolled around.  That’s where the antics _really_ begin.  

After Eskild’s increasingly dramatic texts on the subject, Isak had agreed to come watch the pride parade with him -- from a distance, not joining in or anything, just hanging out there.  The thought doesn’t bother him like it used to, but he’s still not the type to get  _ involved.  _ As far as he knows, that’s the end of it; he’s gonna meet up with Eskild at the parade, and then get a belated birthday lunch together with him and Even, maybe go to a club afterwards for a couple of drinks.  Simple.

Except on Saturday morning, while Even is in the shower and Isak is brushing his teeth over their kitchen sink and listening to the off-beat singing coming from the bathroom, there is suddenly a series of insistently cheerful knocks at the front door.  He freezes, warily turning around and eyeing the entryway.  They’re not expecting anybody, and they don’t exactly live in a great area; he doesn’t  _ think  _ murderers usually knock politely, but you never know.

Then a voice rings through the door.  “Hello-ooo!  Isak, I know you’re in there!”

Now  _ that  _ is a voice Isak knows.  He’d spent quite a few months being very used to that voice barging into his room at every opportunity, and calling to him across the flat when it was Isak’s turn to do the washing up, or someone very vitally needed an opinion on a meme.  Toothbrush still hanging out of the corner of his mouth, Isak swings the door open, and is met with the sight of Eskild -- rainbow leggings, sparkly eyeshadow, pink feather boa and all.  

Isak grins.  A year ago, he couldn’t have handled the  _ idea  _ of going anywhere with Eskild dressed like that, but now he mostly just feels fond.

“Hi, Eskild,” he says, removing his toothbrush from his mouth and rolling his eyes as Eskild pushes past him into the flat.  “What are you doing here?  I thought we were meeting up later.”

Eskild gasps, throwing a hand to his chest as he makes his way through the room and plonks a large carrier bag down onto the bed.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you go to your first ever pride without vetting your wardrobe choices at  _ all,  _ did you?  I mean, just look at you!”  He waves an expressive hand, and Isak looks down at himself reflexively; he’s still in his pyjamas, though, so he doesn’t think Eskild’s allowed to judge his boxer shorts and Jesus t-shirt.

Of course, considering how long he’s known Eskild by now, he probably should have expected something like this.  Deciding to not really be surprised at all, Isak spits his toothpaste out into the sink and puts down his toothbrush before finally following Eskild into the living/dining/bedroom of his and Even’s tiny flat.   

“Besides, Even gave me permission to doll you up.  Now, I have three outfit options for you,” Eskild informs him, guiding Isak towards the bed with a flourish before Isak can manage to get a word in edgeways.  “Before you get all stressed, though, I really have thought about you long and hard while I was choosing!  I know you're not as sure about all this stuff as I am sometimes, so I haven’t got you a matching feather boa or anything -- although if you ever  _ do  _ want to match outfits with me that is amazing and I completely already know what we would wear -- but anyway. You've come so far, and I'm so proud of you  _ learning _ to be proud of yourself, and for growing from my tiny little baby gay in denial to a big, grown up professional gay with a live-in boyfriend and everything!  So it's completely up to you what you wanna choose.”

Isak is still no good at getting emotional with Eskild in real life. He finds it much easier to send sincere texts at 3am which he then refuses to address in the light of day; the truth is, Eskild has meant more to him over the last year and a half than most people have his whole life, and Isak can't imagine life without his guru anymore.  He goes through a small whirlwind of emotions listening to Eskild’s little speech, but there's no way he can _say_ that.   

“Okay, shut up,” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his neck around a bit, fondly avoiding Eskild’s eyes. “What are these outfits, then?”

The first thing Eskild pulls out has Isak blinking in shock, which he'd been expecting, but not for the _reasons_ he was expecting.  

“Grey jeans, red t-shirt.  You can even wear your snapback,” Eskild announces, dropping the crumpled bundle of Isak’s usual clothes onto the bed.

“Uh. That's your super special pride outfit for me?  Eskild, I wore those exact clothes to school last week.  How do you even have those?”

Eskild rolls his eyes with a level of dramaticism Isak could only hope to one day achieve. 

“Your boyfriend keeps coming to do washing at our place because he thinks the dryer here is cursed.  And I  _ know _ they’re your normal clothes.  Do you think I'm an idiot?  This is my gesture, little baby -- you don't have to be somebody you're not just to go to pride.  You're still gay and you're still allowed to be there and have a wonderful time, even in your wrinkled rapper t-shirt and silly hat.”

“This is starting to feel more like insulting than encouraging,” Isak says, because he doesn't know how to express every overwhelming thing he is feeling right then. Still, he shifts a little closer to Eskild as he carries on, “Uh, okay though. Didn't you say you had three choices for me?” 

Eskild beams.

“You do listen when I talk!  Yes, okay, option number two is --” He reaches into the plastic bag and pulls out a weird palette that looks a bit like it could hold makeup -- “You wear that exact same outfit, but I dust off my fabulous facepainting skills and paint a rainbow flag on your cheek.”

Once again, that’s far milder than Isak had been expecting.  He actually -- and it almost surprises him to realise it -- he actually kind of likes the idea.  It’s not some big production, but he  _ is _ going to pride for the very first time, and he’s learning his own ways of embracing his sexuality.   When he and Even first moved into this flat he'd let Eskild stick a little rainbow sticker on the doorbell outside, and that feels okay.  And after Even lecturing him on the whole history of the colours, he kind of gets why the rainbow thing is cool.

“Okay,” he says, voice still a bit wary, because this can’t be the summit of Eskild’s grand plans.  “What’s option three, then?”

“Option three is wonderful, that’s what it is.  But only if you want to.  No pressure.”

He once again reaches into the bag, and this time -- yeah, that’s more like what Isak was expecting.  It’s a t-shirt, but coloured in wide rainbow stripes, like it’s literally been made out a gay pride flag.

“You could wear it with those same dirty old jeans,” Eskild says, sounding the tiniest bit hopeful when Isak doesn’t immediately set the shirt on fire or anything.  

And honestly, Isak does consider it.  He spends several long moments hovering quietly, considering the hell out of it.  He’s been doing good, the last few months, at honestly just _not caring_ what people think of him.  He’s got his friends, and good grades, and the love of his life -- why _should_ he care about anything else?  Isak is chilling through life, staying in his lane, not stressing out about the millions of tiny things he used to stress about, and it feels amazing.  He holds hands with Even and kisses him in public and frankly, just doesn’t give a shit if someone doesn’t like it.  That’s so many far strides away from where he was even just six months ago, but Isak’s had his priorities completely rearranged since then.  
  
In a way, he’d like to be the sort of person who could put on that t-shirt and go to pride and show so boldly exactly how he identifies.  But despite how far he’s come, Isak’s still just not sure that’s _him_.

“Um.” He says, and he knows Eskild immediately realises it’s a no.  “I think I’m gonna go with my own shirt.  But, uh, it’d be cool if you did the facepaint thing.”

_Compromise,_ Isak thinks a little while later, as Eskild paints rainbow stripes onto both of his cheeks.  It’s okay that he’s still figuring this out.  One day, Isak will know exactly how to be proud while still staying true to who he is. 

\----- 

The parade is insane.  It’s bigger and louder and more colourful and more  _ joyful  _ than Isak could have ever imagined.  He stands with Even’s arm wrapped around him, feeling almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people there, people of every single kind, people who couldn't possibly look more different to one another but have all come together with such a huge amount of love.  When Isak was first struggling with his sexuality, it felt like he was the only gay guy in his school -- maybe the only gay teenager in the whole  _ city.   _ But seeing how many people are here, that can't possibly be true, and it makes Isak feel a swell of compassion for his past self. If only he'd known all this back then.  Of course, if he had, life might not have turned out like it did, so he doesn't think he'd change it.

As a float of women on motorbikes go past in the parade and they watch Eskild hitting on a guy wearing pink boxer-briefs and not much else, Even drops a happy kiss onto Isak’s cheek, right in the middle of his rainbow facepaint. 

“Have you ever come to pride before?” Isak suddenly thinks to ask.  Even hums a little, squeezing his arms around Isak’s shoulders.

“Yeah, for a few years.  Not necessarily because I’m bi, though -- some of my friends just used to come, because it’s such a fun day.  We’d watch the parade and just hang out and get food and stuff, enjoy being around people who are so happy.”

The thought of that is somehow ridiculously cute.  He knows, now, that Even’s journey to accepting his sexuality wasn’t completely smooth either, but getting to experience something like this probably really helped along the way.

Isak stays wrapped up in Even’s arms for a while more, watching the amazing, extravagant floats go past in the parade, before Even’s phone buzzes in his pocket.  He lets go of Isak to answer a text, and seems surprised by the time.  
  
“Come on, let’s go save that guy from Eskild,” Even says, grinning as he tugs on Isak’s hand.  “We’ve got a lunch date to get to.”

 Isak holds tight onto Even’s as they weave through the crowds of celebrations.  “We do?” 

“Yeah.  As soon as I told the guys we were coming, they all wanted to join, too.  I said we should meet up!”

\-----

A year ago Isak couldn’t have imagined himself at pride, but ten times more than that he couldn’t have imagined himself at pride  _ with all his friends. _

And yet, there they are.  When they finally drag Eskild away from the half-naked guy and Even leads them a few streets away from where the main parade is happening, to the nearby park, Isak is met with the sight of Jonas, Mahdi and Magnus all spread out on the grass with a picnic.  There’s less of a crowd here, but still a lot of pride celebrators; people in rainbow outfits stretched out on the grass and groups eating sandwiches down next to laid-down placards and a particularly cheerful group of drag queens dancing to a _Gabrielle_ song blaring out of some nearby speakers.  And in the middle of it all, there are Isak’s friends.    

As soon as they spot him, Magnus starts waving over enthusiastically.  Even and Eskild head right towards the guys, Eskild still loudly relating the story of how he ended up getting that guy’s number, but it takes Isak a moment to find his feet.  

These are his friends.  His best friends.  Sure, he’s close to other people, like Sana and Eva, but for the most part everyone Isak considers an important friend is sat on that old picnic blanket.  It shouldn’t feel scary, but for a split second, it does. Even hangs out with them all the time, and all the guys have met Eskild hundreds of times too -- so why does it feel a bit like Isak’s worlds are colliding?

Maybe it’s because he still has those rainbow flags painted on his cheeks.  Isak’s journey with coming out to his friends was always framed around  _ I like a guy, I’m seeing a guy, okay I have a boyfriend, okay I’m in love with a guy, I’m moving in with a guy.   _ But to this day, he’s not sure he’s actually said the words  _ I’m gay  _ to Jonas, Magnus or Mahdi.

But he is.  He’s so very, very gay.  And he’s fine with that.  It only takes him that one moment of crashing insecurity before he realises that everything is absolutely, totally fine.  He finds his feet and heads over to the blanket, dropping down with a grin and slapping all the guys’s hands in greeting.

“Hey, man,” says Jonas, as he offers Isak a can of coke.  “How’s it going?  Good day?”

As Isak accepts the drink, Even’s arm falls back around his shoulders, tugging him close once again.  Isak doesn’t think Even has actually let go of him for more than a few minutes since they left the flat this morning. 

“Yeah.  Yeah, great day, actually.”

“Isak, this place is awesome!” Magnus interjects, with his usual level of enthusiasm.  “You know there’s all, like, music and art stuff going on too?  For  _ ten days _ ?  Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve never come before!”

“You’ve never had a gay friend before,” Isak points out.   _ Gay.   _ He actually says the word, just like that, and none of them even blink.  He knew they’d all probably figured it out from context, but he wasn’t sure if he was the only one who’d noticed that he was still holding back on saying it.  Apparently, he was.

“Well, consider this a thanks for introducing us to pride,” Mahdi jokes, raising his drink towards Isak.  Isak laughs, which has Even laughing too, as he presses a kiss into Isak’s hair.  Eskild clears his throat.

“Um, excuse me!  I think you’re all forgetting who is introducing _Isak_ to pride at this very moment.” 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks Eskild.”  Isak rolls his eyes, but the boys all raise their drinks to Eskild as well, so at least he’s happy.

“Come on, man, let’s eat,” Jonas says, reaching for one of the sandwiches piled up in front of them. 

“Yeah, Jonas’s mum made this whole wicked lunch for us!”

Jonas rolls his eyes.  “She loves Isak more than me, I swear.  She told me to make my own food until I said we were taking you to pride, then she was all like -- like,  _ oh, you won’t cut the sandwiches the way he likes anyway, and let me just make a couple batches of cupcakes.” _

They all laugh, and Isak’s heart feels light as he reaches out for one of the cupcakes.  They look delicious.  And fuck it, this is his birthday-slash-happy-gay-pride celebration, he can eat dessert first if he wants to.

“Yeah, hurry up and eat though!” Magnus adds.  “I printed out the schedule and, fuck, there’s this dance thing in like -- thirty minutes, that we totally have to go to!”

He hands a slightly crumpled sheet of paper to Mahdi, who looks equally invested, and Isak can’t help but smile.  Eskild starts telling an outrageous story about last year’s pride and how he got locked out of the kollektiv with nothing but a tiny rainbow flag to cover his junk with, and all the guys are enraptured by the story, and Isak just looks around, eating another bit of cake.   _ Yeah, okay,  _ he thinks.   _ My life is pretty great. _

\-----

That night, Isak picks up the rainbow t-shirt Eskild had brought him earlier, and considers it for a moment. It's really not the sort of thing Isak would ever wear out in public. He's not sure if that has to do with the lingering twinges of shame he still feels sometimes about broadcasting his sexuality, or whether he can simply dismiss it as the fact that he doesn't really wear bright colours.  

But he gets it -- he gets that the rainbow means something.  Not just to him, but to an entire history of people, a kind of  _ culture _ that he actually belongs to. That he's learning to belong to. Isak looks at the shirt for a while, paused in the midst of getting ready for bed, the faint sounds of Even’s shower fading into silence as his thoughts drown it out.

Isak takes off the white Jesus t-shirt he usually wears to bed, and puts on the rainbow shirt instead. It probably looks ridiculous with his grey sweatpants, he thinks, but pyjamas don't have to look sensible.  The t-shirt is soft, and Isak climbs onto the bed, somehow feeling calmer than he has in a while.

Even grins when he comes out of the shower and catches the sight of Isak sat there, scrolling down his phone boredly, new outfit on show. But he doesn't say anything much -- just wraps his arms extra tight around Isak as they climb under the duvet together, and presses a kiss to his shoulder, over the fabric of the t-shirt.

Even falls asleep first, but Isak lies awake in the dark just a little bit longer, thinking. He thinks that he's got his eighteenth year off to a really good start. He thinks he barely even recognises his life a year ago, and that's a good thing. He thinks he's finally understanding some of the things Eskild has always tried to tell him about pride. Most of all, Isak thinks about how scared he used to be, _terrified_ , not because of his sexuality itself, but because of the stereotypes he thought other people would apply to him if they found out.  Whether because of religion or just society, Isak hated the thought of having someone else's ideas of his identity imposed on him just because of who he liked to kiss; it felt, for a while, like coming out would also mean losing everything Isak had decided about himself. The things he liked. The things he found normal. At first, those fears had been what made him push too far in the other direction, desperate to be _just a normal guy who happened to kiss guys_ , not even using the word gay.  

But he's come far since then. Isak is never going to be like Eskild, or some of those guys he saw in the parade today, but that doesn't make him better or worse than them. And as he drifts off to sleep, in his rainbow t-shirt and his boyfriend's arms, smudges of face paint still lingering on his cheek, Isak thinks -- he might finally be figuring out his own balance. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you leave a comment and let me know what you thought, you win my undying love♥️
> 
> you can also find this fic on my tumblr [here!](http://milominderbindered.tumblr.com/post/161446636421/thirty-days-of-skam-fic-day-five-beginning)


End file.
